


The calm of the gods

by GrilledBeer



Series: Vinsmoke one shots [1]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Gen, Nakamaship overload, One Shot, recent chapters reactions, sanji feeling super guilty in general, vague & minimal references to the vinsmoke, violence spectacular, zoro being a hurt asshole in denial
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-13
Updated: 2017-10-27
Packaged: 2018-05-20 06:30:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5994958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrilledBeer/pseuds/GrilledBeer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of parallel scenarios of what would have happened if Sanji's plight had been different from recent canon:</p><p>1) Thriller Bark, turned upside down.<br/>2) Zoro was alone with Sanji's shirts.<br/>3) Inside Capone, Sanji mentally filled out his 'Shitty Behaviour Reflexion Sheet'.<br/>4) After the wedding, Sanji decides to feed himself to the fish.<br/>5) Always watching out for everyone's back, Sanji is now being returned the courtesy</p><p>One shots. Nakamaship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title not particularly relevant: Paul Valéry, “Le cimetière marin”
> 
> “O récompense après une pensée  
> Qu'un long regard sur le calme des dieux”
> 
> The scenarios are not designed to make sense, unless on their own, so please try not to worry about logic and explanation.

A carnage. Blood. Pain.

A plea to take his life instead of his captain’s.

A looming figure, dark and murderous. A paw-like hand was extended towards him.

Now was the end.

Suddenly appeared another shadow, staggering. A black clad back. Shattered, damned. It looked easily breakable compared to the giant silhouette.

A whiff of conversation.

The paw turned away from him.

No.

A whang. An impact.

A falling black rag.

A muted crash. Blood spread slowly, steadily from the sponge that was the sack of bones.

Damn it. No.

The giant shadow picked it up and was away.

He reached out. 

No.

He blacked out.

 

Zoro woke up to find himself and the rest of the crew swathed in bandages and sore but more or less safe and sound. They were put in a run-down stone mansion. He turned his head to the side and found that somebody had put his three swords beside him, among which the new addition was humming softly. Chopper was at Luffy’s side, changing his bandages.

As if one cue, his captain opened his eyes and whined.

“Sanji, I’m hungry!”

“Stay still for a little bit longer, Luffy!”

Chopper tried to coax, though a sign of distress showed on his face.

“Sanji!”

“Um, about that, Luffy…”

Nami’s voice reached the swordsman, and her heels came into view. Zoro shut his eyes and let a deep breath escape.

“I want meat!”

Luffy was now casting his gaze around.

“They’ve taken him.”

Zoro heard his own voice say. A loud silence followed.

“Did you know something, Zoro?”

He heard Usopp ask reluctantly from somewhere. But he remained silent. There was nothing for him to add. The cook was taken and that was it.

 

They took Brook in. After that they held a party to celebrate. 

They decided to go after the cook, wherever he was taken to.

 

A few days later, while they were on the high seas, heading towards the nearest marine base to gather what information they could, a newspaper came to them by post.

“Unprecedentedly violent political unrest in North Blue.”

The news didn’t say why. It was generally very vague. All they could glean from it was that the people in that region were rebelling against a powerful family who had just been reunited with an important family member. War threatened to break out.

In a corner, under the section for the marine's updates, ‘Black Leg Sanji’s’ bounty was announced to be forfeited.

Half of the crew thought there was no connection, while the other half was convinced and tried to produce evidence.

Zoro’s gaze was fixed at the blue sea. He couldn’t bring himself to care.

It hurt.

He needed to become stronger.

 

_He didn’t know that he was still alive until he realised that he was still alive._

_That was when he was startled to consciousness and his entire body was engulfed by an excruciating pain._

_He didn’t have any memory of being carried away, of being bandaged or of being propped up in a chair. Or that someone had just slapped him across the face._

_But all of those must have happened, for he was now slumping bonelessly in a high-back chair. That was what supported his body, because he did not have the least bit of energy to even move his little finger. What he could see of his body was covered in bandages and hidden beneath a black suit. A tube filled with dark liquid was plunged into the crook of his left arm which had been placed on the armrest; the rest of it was somewhere out of his view. His cheek throbbed. He was amazed that he could still acutely feel each and every single source of pain in his body, as they were all clamouring to make themselves known._

_“We finally meet again, after all these years.”_

_A voice from in front of him said. Though his neck was hanging limply on his chest, he could tell that the owner of that voice was located right in front of him._

_Damn, he could not move an inch of his body._

_A hand conveniently lifted his chin, making up for his lack of movement. He passingly thought that it might be the same one as the one that had ungently called him back from darkness earlier._

_He was met with the sight of a man that had always been his horror._

_His own father._

_“Welcome back to the family.”_

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just very hyped up from recent chapters.
> 
> Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters and One Piece belong to E. Oda & team.


	2. Chapter 2

The sea was choppy. The ship rocked with the waves created by the pace of the elephant. 

They came back to the Thousand Sunny to prepare to depart.

Zoro stepped into the men’s quarters and felt a solid emptiness. Funny it was less than a month that he had last been here: he felt as if he hadn’t seen the place in years. He threw his swords onto the empty couch and randomly pulled out the cook’s drawers for lack of anything else to occupy himself. 

All the clothes were there. The charcoal shirt that the cook wore in Punk Hazard was on top. It was neatly ironed and folded. A black suit jacket and pants were hung on the rail, still smelling faintly of fragrance and cigarettes, the golden buttons gleamed dully in the ombre of the afternoon. It was as if their owner might walk into the door and put them on at any moment.

Zoro grabbed the first shirt and threw it over his shoulder. These clothes were not needed anymore. He reached for the mustard that was revealed underneath. This one was also folded and ironed. He could still make out the pale traces of blood -  _nosebleed -_  that couldn't be washed off and had frustrated its owner so at the hem. He was preparing to throw it away too. 

Then he accidentally took a step back and realised that he had stepped on something.

It was the charcoal shirt.

The swordsman removed his foot. On one shoulder of the shirt was now a giant print of the underside of his left boot.

Zoro heard an imaginary twang. He bent down and picked it up.

He patted it, trying to get the dirt out.

He remembered the shivering bony shoulders underneath the fabric. Back then, the idiot cook had taken off his jacket to give it to Nami and was freezing for her - Zoro witnessed this sight fleetingly when Chopper in the cook's body put the suit jacket back on. How very idiotic of him. Of course this thin fabric would never hold against the cold.

He patted the shirt harder. 

He rubbed it to his own shirt.

The smudge wouldn’t go away.

Zoro hated how it was impossible to get it out. He could not correct this. He hated how he could commit all the wrongs in the world he wanted, but never could correct anymore.

And, because he hated it, he scrunched up that shirt and discarded it into the rolling waves.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> Here's another chapter sans logic. It is by no means connected to the earlier chapter.


	3. The right answer is in one simple sentence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Sanji was sitting in Capone's castle, he filled out a mental 'Shitty Behaviour Reflexion Sheet' like he'd do every time he screwed up. He hoped he'd figure out what the correct answer to his fault was this time. Hint: it was one simple sentence.

Zeff could be very creative with his ‘disciplining’ sometimes. Knowing that Sanji would never admit it verbally when something terrible happened because of this own doing, the older chef would always make him fill out some stupid form that he called, very creatively, ‘the Shitty Behaviour Reflexion Sheet’.

For some reason, Sanji had never been able to get it right. Zeff would make him re-do it over and over again. Still, Sanji had never been able to find the right answer. After a while Zeff eventually gave up and tried other approaches instead. 

Nevertheless, it stuck with Sanji. Whenever he screwed up, he would always try to fill out this form mentally. Like now.

He hoped he would eventually get it right. He was pretty convinced this time.

The only hint to the right answer that Zeff had given him was that what he needed was one simple sentence.

 

**1) What happened and what was the shitty cause?**

Sanji was sitting stiffly with his arms crossed in the royal, high-back armchair inside Capone’s internal castle. The wall was decorated with arms and the mafia’s stupid portraits, the air stuffy with antagonism. The chair on the opposite side of the table had long been vacated, so he had nothing to stare at except the stained tablecloth in front of him that had once been white. Damn, he’d never allow this on _his_ own tablecloth. This was beyond unacceptable.

He had been in this position for he didn’t know how long. It felt like days, though realistically mere hours must have passed. He refused to move. The devil fruit user had offered him a private sector, which he had naturally refused. That was the same as being held captive. Well, more than he already was, that was.

But the hall was not entirely empty: Caesar was whimpering in a corner, the heavy chains still wound around his limbs and torso. Sanji wanted to shout at him to shut up, but he couldn’t be bothered. Capone’s henchmen had been ordered to leave them alone, seeing that they were not going to pull anything on them anymore.

Sanji resisted the urge to get up and look outside. That was strategically unwise. He chose to remain here in order to observe his enemies and his shitty prisoner. Thus, he could only wonder where in the New World they were at the moment.

His mind then wandered to the real question at hand: what had happened and what had been the shitty cause?

Well, what had happened was that he fucked up, clearly. He got Nami-san and the others, who had been entrusted _to him_ , in danger. That bastard had not only threatened to hurt them but actually did. Nami-san could have been seriously harmed. Not to mention that here he was, immobilised and useless, where he could have been out there, helping where he could in the much-hurt country of Zou. All because of his stupidity.

The shitty cause, hence, was inevitably himself. It hurt to admit, but he was the one who brought it all upon them. He and his shitty history. If he hadn’t been here, they wouldn’t have had to risk anything. Hell, Zou could have been devastated all over gain. All would be on him.

He finally looked up from a spot of splatter on the white surface, no longer able to bring himself to think those terrible thoughts that made he felt even more like shit. He mentally wrote down his answer to Zeff.

_I fucked up and it was entirely my fault._

 

**2) What did I do and what were the consequences?**

Sanji’s mind wandered to Luffy and Nami-san and everyone, even the shitty marimo. He hoped his captain got to Zou sooner than later in order to provide Nami-san and others some safety. He had terribly wronged Nami-san he did not know how to apologise and make up for it enough. The things she had had to go through, his delicate Nami-san.

He wondered if the Dressrosa team would have been on Zou by now, if they had managed to find the elephant at all. Knowing Luffy, though, he was pretty confident that that shouldn’t be a problem at all. He also wondered whether Law was with them. That’d be much help. Law was strong.

What would they make of his decision? He only minimally believed that they’d stay put and wait for his return peacefully. He wished he’d have gotten everything sorted out by the time Luffy came, he sincerely did. Oh, yes, he _knew_ Luffy was going to go after him. And the idiot swordsman would never agree to his decision. Maybe that guy was right, for once. Maybe he deserved all those reprimands that were waiting for him when he got back. _If_ he got back.

Then he turned his thoughts towards his past. His biological family. All he saw was black. It was ugly, _ugly_. His vision was blotched by darkness and despair. He felt like he wanted to, needed to, get away. Out of this place, out of this body. Out of that past.

He tried to picture his would-be wife to distract himself. Would she be pretty? He imagined her to be a sweet and delicate flower, a little bit like Nami-san. And smart, too, with the light shining in her gaze, just like Robin-chan. He prayed that she was just an innocent party caught up in shitstorm and not part of its cause. He prayed he could swear, Damn them for getting such a precious girl like this mixed up in their dirty business. Damn the yonko, damn Capone, damn that bloody family.

What he had done was what he would have done all over again anytime. He dearly hoped he had protected his friends by deciding to push them away. Throwing them out of Capone’s castle was the only best course of action that he could have taken. It weighted on his conscience. He wished he could have done more than that. He wished he could erase their memory about this whole abominable business so they never had to have any part in this.

The hated consequences, naturally, were that he’d become the burden of the crew. He embraced them with such hatred that was wholly directed towards himself. He’d lagged behind. He couldn’t have stayed to protect his crew. He had inadvertently dragged them partly into this mess. _His_ mess. It physically hurt to think that he might not be able to make up to them enough even if he spent his life trying. If his crew would still let him go back.

He wrote:

_I took responsibility and my friends suffered as a result._

 

**3) Next time I will?**

Sanji didn’t want to dwell on it, but it really bugged him. He tried to think of something else so as not to think about it, but it kept making its presence known. He felt cold. It started from the tip of his fingers and crept up to his arms and then his body. Even his superior fur coat that was a gift of friendship (how ironic, considering that he had _almost_ gotten their country destroyed all over again) from the people at Zou was not helping much.

He tried to keep his posture straight so as not to affect it. His arms were crossed in front of him and his fingers pressed into his ribs. His cigarettes were long gone, otherwise he would have tried to burn down the castle again. Or not.

He would fight them off, be they yonkos, devil fruit users, or even his family. They were not family to begin with anyway. He hoped he could still hold out until then. It was all about willpower. He was not going to capsize, not in the face of these people. These stupid, inevitable people out of his nightmares. He only wished he would not have to face off with a woman. This girl who was to be his wife, whoever she was, he sincerely hoped he would not have to confront her. He would not hurt a woman even if it killed him.

The wetness started to seep between his fingers that were pressing into his side. He told himself not to think about it. Nothing existed if you were not aware of it. He just had to think about something else. Shit, he had really, really screwed up.

That mad scientist’s whining was getting more and more annoying, and he now had a hard time concentrating. He was tempted to get up and beat the shit out of Caesar in order to shut him up, but he remained still. He needed to wrap up this mental questionnaire soon.

Finally, imagining that Zeff was there to tell him that his answers were correct this time, he wrote it down.

_Next time I will try harder so as not to fail my crew ever again._

 

“Your answers are all wrong. You never get it, do you, shitty eggplant?”

“What are you talking about!? What's wrong with them!?”

"Is this how you truly feel?"

"..."

“The right answer is in one simple sentence. It’s something you have to figure out by yourself. ”

“And what exactly is that, shitty geezer!?”

“The day you get it is the day you grow up, little eggplant…”

Zeff placed a hand on top of his head with much gentleness that it was unfamiliar to him and looked very, very sad. It made Sanji want to cry but he didn’t dare, even though he was young enough to cry without shame back then.

He just couldn’t understand why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chers/Chères Readers, make me proud and shout out that one answer that Sanji can’t figure out together! One, two, three…
> 
> Disclaimers: everything belongs to E. Oda and team, as always.


	4. Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the wedding, Sanji decides to feed himself to the fish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing.
> 
> I wrote this story a long time ago, before the wedding happened in canon. So here we are, with the wedding carried through as planned and Sanji taking actions in consequence.

Technically, everything is over.

He shooed Luffy and his _former_ crew away. They left. The marriage was carried through. He is now officially part of Big Mom’s family. His idiot siblings are laughing at how helpless he has become. The helplessness that they forced him into.

The cuffs are always on his wrists. He knows they will stay there for the rest of his life.

He hasn’t been doing well, locking himself in his room most of the time. Except when he comes out, on afternoons like this, to contemplate his only touch of freedom. 

As he stands on top of the west rampart of his biological father’s castle, he contemplates the calm blue of the afternoon sky and ocean. The first is clear blue, bright and oppressing. It stretches out towards where Luffy and the rest currently fare, wherever that is. Right underneath him, the body of this mysterious water pulls the heavy but resisting mass of the transportation Snails towards its depth. It is at this impossible blue that his gaze is fixed. He knows it will be cold down there, even in the bright afternoon sun. The water is always deceptive. It looks very peaceful but as soon as it engulfs your body, it never lets up. He wonders if there is any sea king down there. All the better.

What’s the point of staying there, now that everyone is safe? Luffy and his crew are safe from the Germa 66 and Big Mom. Zeff and the guys at the Baratie are untouched. The people at the New Kama island, well, not that he cares about them, don’t even have an idea of the danger that he had put them in.

Leaving is the best option.

He knows that it is not that simple. They will stop him. The ground is covered by the eternally patrolling soldiers. Besides, he knows that he is being monitored. His family is not stupid. They monitored him when he was across the world from them on that floating restaurant in the East Blue, after all.

Leaving does not make him happy: it is simply the only option that will stop him from hating himself. This is the day he decides he wants to stop spending his days hating himself in his room. He doesn’t even have anyone to cook for: he was the one who drove them away, he reminds himself.

He understands that he has to be quick. Quick and efficient. He pulls out a knife that he has been carrying with him since he got in the castle. It’s actually a cooking knife, typically used for trimming meat, but it’s sharp enough to do the job. He places it on his left forearm but couldn’t bring himself to cut. What a coward. Damn his silly principles. He shifts the knife to his torso, placing the tip at his stomach.

And forces it in.

It sucks a little that he did not manage to find the All Blue, but the situation turning out the way it did, he has to be content with everyone not being hurt. It’s pathetic to be happy with that, but he’s happy still.

The flesh resists a little, which is natural when you use the wrong knife with the wrong kind of meat. Then he quietly scolds himself for comparing himself with food, although he couldn’t really help it. The knife sinks through layer after layer of flesh and rips through muscles until it finally hits the bag that is his stomach. Through the hand holding the knife, he feels something give, like breaking an egg yolk, only bigger.

By this time he is panting and bent over the rampart. He grits his teeth and summons his strength to push the knife all the way through, the blade tearing the back of his shirt like a diver breaking the surface, and pulls it clean out of his body in the same move. As his mind becomes foggy and blurred, he sees the bloodied knife falls into the blue water. Immediately, a dorsal fin of something really big appears to circle around the spot where it has disappeared.

He grips the brick wall and counts to ten, waiting for the blood to run and soak his whole body. He forces himself not to cough and retch, but fails inevitably.

As he hits ten, he uses the last of his strength to heave his soaking body up and over the rail. The fall is swift, or maybe he blacks out, who knows. 

He recalls the face of his one and only captain and the others for the last time. He thinks of his gentle mother and the tender, although short, memories of her. He thinks of Zeff, and how content he has been at the Baratie. His mind wanders briefly to his only sister, and he realises that he doesn’t really hold anything against her, knowing that deep down she is a gentle person like their mother once was.

When his body explodes into the water, he realises that it is indeed freezing. He can feel his heavy body sink and sink deeper. A dark, hovering shadow appears before him. Excited with the promise of blood and flesh, the sea king comes to feed on this easy prey. It opens it giant mouth lined with jagged teeth, swallowing him. 

He gently kisses good bye to the world. Content that now that everything is over, nobody will be in danger because of him any more.

 

When he wakes up again he tastes blood in his mouth. His whole body hurts and he cannot even lift a finger. He feels that he is burning but also shaking terribly at the same time. His breath is coming out in short, weak whiffs. It is so difficult that he wants to give up breathing altogether, and he does.

Somebody shakes him awake because he has blacked out. Then he notices that he is wet from head to toes. That same person puts something in his mouth, making him gag.

“Stay with me. Bite on this. It’ll hurt.”

The command is succinct. Then he feels the immense pressure on his torso. Something is being sucked out of him. The pain is so strong that he bites down on the gag, hard. Staying conscious is impossible, so he slips off into the darkness again.

“Don’t give up, bastard.”

A different voice says, pulling him back to consciousness. He realises that his shoulders are being supported so that he can breathe more easily. He lets out an involuntary whimper. All he wants to do is disobey that command and simply give up.

“Do you remember who you are?”

The question brings back a big amount of pain. I’m Sanji, brother of Ichiji, Niji and Yonji. I’m a Vinsmoke. I’m married to Charlotte Pudding, Big Mom’s evil little daughter. I betrayed Luffy. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to be who I am.

“Hey. Did you hear me? Do. You. Remember. Who. You. Are.”

The question is repeated by the first voice, with more insistence this time. It hurts to be who he is. He doesn’t want to be this person. Then a wave of pain from his torso hits him, and he lets out a weak yell. He doesn’t know if it is from remembering, or from the pain, or both.

“What does it mean, Torao?”

Asks the voice whose owner is supporting his body. The voice sounds uncharacteristically worried. The first person does not answer. A contemplative silence follows, before he continues.

“We were waiting in the submarine when we saw you fell and fought you out of the sea king’s jaws. We transported you across the border into the High Seas while you were passed out.”

The voice drones on impersonally.

“You’ve been badly hurt. Your stomach cavity is heavily damaged as it has been pierced through. Although I removed the liquid and blood deposited in there and sewn it back together, you will not be able to handle anything for a few months. We’ll have to feed you through the tubes. Although we managed to remove the cuffs from your wrists, they were set off as we crossed out of Big Mom’s territory, partially damaging your hands. You won’t be able to carry anything that weights more than a pencil for a long time — if you survive the wound, that is.”

It stops for a little, maybe waiting for his reaction. When he gives none, it picks up emotionlessly.

“Not to mention the various injuries you sustained while being chewed to bits by that fish. And blood loss.”

He feels that his body has been tensing in pain for a while and gives in to it. He slumps down bonelessly into the arms that support him.

It is Luffy and Trafalgar Law. He recognises them.

Breathing hurts. Staying conscious hurts so much. Leaving seems like the easiest option. It won’t hurt anymore.

“Don’t leave us, Sanji. Stay.”

Luffy pleads.

Sanji struggles.

Leaving is easy.

But Sanji struggles to stay.


	5. Spark

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Always watching out for everyone's back, Sanji is now being returned the courtesy

Rain starts to fall from the sky onto his prone body lying on the ground. For some reason it seems to rain an awful lot here on Whole Cake Island.

Everything is over now. He just has to wait for Luffy to come find him.

All around him are fallen bodies of his enemies, Big Mom pirates. All is quiet.

Seems like everything is catching up with him. His face hurts. His body hurts too. He’s in a lot of pain. And too weak to even get up. Usually he’d be the one to pick up the pieces of his crew after battles, but this time the role might have to be reversed…

Damn rain, he is getting soaked. He wants to move and find cover.

What if someone defeated Luffy? Then he slapped himself mentally. Like hell, Luffy has others with him…

Rain beats down. It must be the fatigue, because he suddenly feels really cold and starts to shiver. The events from the past few days must be taking their toll on him.

Keeping his eyes open has become a struggle with the dull throb that has developed inside his skull. He knows he’s going to get an awful headache afterwards. Well, nothing enough consumption of cigarettes can’t cure.

He knows that he should get up and go make sure everyone is safe. He knows he should be helping his nakama defeat whoever it is they’re fighting, if they’re still fighting.

But it’s impossible to get up like this. He has given in to the fact that he can no longer move. Not with these shaky limbs.

Then the cold disappears suddenly and is replaced by warmth. His body temperature skyrockets. It’s starting to get really hard to breathe for some reason.

What’s happening?

The sole fact that keeps him conscious is fear. What if they are defeated? What if nobody comes? What if they leave him alone like this, completely helpless under the pounding raindrops?

He blinks dazedly, no longer registering the dark sky that’s pouring down the heavy torrent.

Someone? Luffy… Luffy who always has his back. Luffy whom he can always count on. Luffy who… who… Will Luffy come…?

What about the others? His sweet Nami-san? Chopper? Anyone… Would they know that he’s here? Would they come looking for him?

His thoughts wander further and further away. To places long left behind. Damn Geezer… Ever so immediate, ever so useful in a time like this. Just what you would expect from that good for nothing old man.

And those guys on Momoiro… they never failed to find him no matter where the deepest and darkest corners to which he crawled to lick his wounds were. Although Sanji eschews the hospitality, Ivanov never fails to show up with the first-aid kit and a warm meal. Will they come this time?

The Minks… Maybe there are still some Minks around. If there is just one Mink, then he can just…

Then he knows he has hit rock bottom when he silently wishes that the Vinsmokes were there. Hell, he’d happily let them have their fun with him if they’d just show up then and there.

Randomly, as if it has developed a new function on its own, his body starts to alternate between overheating and dropping subzero.

Someone.

Anyone.

Fever ignites from his core and is burning him up from the inside.

A dull jolt. A pair of steady arms gently handed over his bundled up body into another.

Another.

But when did…?

Transferred, he is now securely supported by a different person.

Has he been …in motion? He can't be sure.

Something snapped him back out of his fever-induced oblivion. He realises that for an indeterminable stretch of time, someone has wrapped his shaking body up in a piece of garment and lifted him up. He has been moved out of the rain now.

Someone is continuously talking to him, although he can’t for the life of him make out the words.

Could be an enemy. Could be a nakama. But he doesn’t care anymore.

His mind registers: lack of rain, lack of threat. A vague sense of security from the person holding his body.

A faraway voice flickers through the darkness, like a spark that sizzles out of existence.

“…Don’t worry, Sanji. This time it’s our turn to have your back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear all, thanks for sticking with me. A lot has happened in my life, but I'm really enjoying it. I'm glad to be able to post this short writing that I did a while back when I can... Hope you enjoy.
> 
> Please be kindly informed that your comment is what I look forward to most each night when I check AO3 before going to bed.
> 
> Disclaimer: One Piece belongs to Oda and Co.


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